


Mistletoe Overdose

by arrafrost



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Exhibitionism, M/M, Mistletoe, Public Display of Affection, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arrafrost/pseuds/arrafrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mistletoe.</p><p>Another excuse for Wade and Peter to fuse their mouths together and learn to breathe through their ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mistletoe Overdose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Atsvie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atsvie/gifts).



Weasel turned on his heel, back out the door from which he entered, and out into the snow. He would brave the long walk back in the snow to campus to study at the library because if there was one thing about the holiday season it was exactly what he’d seen.

Mistletoe.

Another excuse for Wade and Peter to fuse their mouths together and learn to breathe through their ears.

They had hung the mistletoe in the middle of the kitchen – not even in a doorway! The  _middle_ of the kitchen, near the table and in everyone’s way. Weasel would have to disinfect the table again when he got home… and probably the floor… and the counters… and the stove. Weasel was tempted to leave one of the burners on purposely but he wasn’t going to risk it burning Peter’s ass instead of Wade’s chia pet ass.

Weasel cringed. He was never going to use that to describe Wilson ever again. He had enough mental damage from seeing Wade walk around stark naked all the time. Ass cheeks like rotten hamburger meat flapping about… Weasel gagged. Time to purge anything Deadpool related out of his mind and replace it with coding.

He didn’t notice the other mistletoe set up all around the house in the living room, the stairwell, the bathrooms, the front and back porch, Bob’s doorway…

\- - - - - - - -

“Ugh! Wade! Fuck, harder!” Peter’s gasps echoed within the laundry room and bounced off the walls until they caused Weasel to pause on the steps. A simple evening of carrying his laundry downstairs to the laundry room once again foiled by his rabbit housemates.

“Sorry, what was that. Couldn’t quite hear you over the washing machine. Gonna have to speak up-”

Wade teased and Peter didn’t bother to curse him or get annoyed. The debauched whine that carried to the stairs followed by, “Please, Wade!”

Weasel’s brow twitched as he shifted the weight of his laundry to the other hand and braved the horrifying sights that he was going to see.

“God damn it you two! We discussed the no-sex in the laundry room policy!”

Wade turned around to face at his roommate but didn’t slow in his thrusts. In fact, he increased his speed making Peter arch his back into the force. He leaned back on the washer, body long and exposed, face flush with arousal, teeth biting into his lips in vein as none of his moans were being held back.

Weasel rolled his eyes, trying not to look directly them. “I need to do laundry, get out.”

“No can do buddy,” Wade shrugged, pulling out of Peter nearly all the way before driving back in. Peter wailed, legs wrapping around his partner’s waist and meeting his thrust without any humility or concern for the observing party.

“Why not, Wilson?”

He was forced to make eye contact with the mercenary as he pointed up to the ceiling where, of course, another mistletoe plant was stationed.

“You kiss under the mistletoe, Wade! Not fuck! Fucking is for the bedroom!”

“Maybe if you’re Bob.”

Both of them stopped for a moment contemplating if Bob had ever gotten laid at all… before Wade continued with that same egotistical, know-it-all voice that he used when he was bullshitting out his ass.

“My mistletoe tradition goes farther than kissing, as you can see.” His fingers curled around Peter’s erection for emphasis and the boy squirmed desperately beneath him, muttering the filthiest things Weasel had ever heard him say. That was going to take a while to delete from his memory bank.

Weasel scowled and dropped his laundry at a safe distance, not wanting to risk their mess getting anywhere near his belongings. “If you don’t start breaking tradition I’m going to burn all the mistletoe down.”

“You have fun with that.” Wade didn’t bother watching Weasel leave the room and continue back up the stairs. He did, however, continue to fuck Peter well into the washing machine from the loud banging noises of the appliance against the wall and the moaning and pleading that followed.

\- - - - - - - -

Late in the evening, Weasel finally completed his last lab for the week and was looking forward to a night of COD or Left4Dead. Shooting zombies was therapeutic, ask anyone.

Except when he walked into the house, a Bob barreled into him as he walked past.

“What the hell?” Weasel jumped back but Bob continued to the kitchen as though he hadn’t even seen Weasel. Which, upon closer examination, made sense. Bob was wearing a blindfold and feeling his way toward the kitchen.

“Bob, what are you doing?” He asked and received no response. Stepping closer to his oddity of a housemate, he could see earplugs sticking out of his ears as he rummaged through the fridge after inadvertently head butting it. Weasel reached around him and pulled out the plugs, evoking a startled shriek and random, incoherent Hydra propaganda.

When Bob finally calmed down and took off his blindfold to meet Weasel’s eyes, he asked him again. “Why are you wearing a blindfold and ear plugs?”

Bob’s lip quivered and a familiar horrified tint to his eyes seeped in. He didn’t say anything, though, only pointed up.

Weasel followed the gesture and grimaced. The entire ceiling was  _covered,_ wall to wall, with mistletoe. His eyes moved from the kitchen to the living room, all the doorways, up the stairs. Everywhere. They didn’t have a ceiling anymore, they had a poisonous plant trap of mandatory seasonal kisses.

“Jesus fucking hell!” Peter’s moans could be heard clearly from their room upstairs. Except it wasn’t going to help them this time. Having sex in their room for once. Because this… monstrosity of Christmas decorations was unacceptable.

Weasel stormed up the stairs, fist ready to bang on their door but it opened before his knuckles could hope to rap on the wood. He was greeted with yet another site he was going to chemically burn from his memories.

Wade was completely naked, as usual now, and he was carrying an equally nude Peter Parker. Parker’s arms and legs wrapped – or more appropriately, tied – around his neck and waist. Wade was holding onto Peter’s ass with only one hand, presumably to both keep Peter up and in place.

Weasel didn’t need to look down to know that Peter was fully seated on Wade’s cock. Peter’s body was shivering, drops of sweat rolling down between his quivering shoulder blades and a constant, needy whimper flowing from his lips.

“Hey, buddy! Don’t mind us, just getting some water so we don’t dehydrate. Isn’t that right, Peter?” Wade bounced Peter up, getting a better grip on his ass while simultaneously forcing Peter off his cock before he fell onto it again. Peter’s answer came in the form of a choked out groan and his arms clinging tighter around Wade’s shoulders.

Weasel gaped as Wade walked by him, stepping out of the way so he wouldn’t be brushed with their naked bodies that descended the stairs. Each step downward was a firm and deep thrust into Peter’s body that had his face contorted in pleasure and over-sensitivity. Short gasps and moans escaped his bruised lips. His damp hair clung to his face and his eyes were closed tightly, unable to match Weasel’s gaze.

He wondered briefly how long they had been going at it… probably all day long. Peter’s breathy moans were a bit distant now, definitely in the kitchen, when Bob came stumbling up the stairs. Arms outstretched to aid in his blind clambering up the stairs. His blindfold and ear plugs returned to their original positions.

Weasel watched as he struggled, eventually getting on his hands and knees to feel his way up the stairs without as much threat of falling down them completely. With a loud sigh, he shook his head and turned around to go to his own room. He slammed the door behind him and nearly knocked himself out on the green and red object hanging from the ceiling on a long string before him.

“WILSON IF YOU TWO FUCKED IN MY ROOM I WILL CHEMICALLY CASTRATE YOU!”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://arrafrost.tumblr.com/)


End file.
